


Not In A Friendly Sort Of Way

by flying_crepes



Series: Heronchild Oneshots [1]
Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Awkwardness, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Neck Kissing, No Beta, No Smut, One Shot, We Die Like Men, james likes muffins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flying_crepes/pseuds/flying_crepes
Summary: A cute oneshot with James and Matthew.Literally just James x Matthew.A first kiss.
Relationships: Matthew Fairchild & James Herondale, Matthew Fairchild/James Herondale
Series: Heronchild Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086845
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Not In A Friendly Sort Of Way

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all!
> 
> This is my first work on ao3! I plan on posting many more.
> 
> *I accidentally deleted this work while writing because I am a massive idiot*
> 
> Warnings: Rated T for a few swear words and a heated kissing scene (it’s actually quite vanilla).
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -flying_crepes

James stood, paralyzed with shock, as Matthew’s lips left his. He was unable to breathe, unable to think, and unable to to anything other than gape. That did NOT just happen. Did Matthew just kiss him? Did he just say he loved him? He must be hallucinating, or in a weird alternate dimension.

“Jamie?” Matthew’s voice was shaky. It sounded distant to James’s distracted brain.

James swallowed thickly. His mouth was bone-dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t pick a single coherent thought from the raging current that was his mind. Nothing but the memory of fingers grazing his jawline mere moments before.

James could recall the exact moment he’d realized he was in love with his best friend. They were fighting—hand-to-hand combat—on the worn mats in the training room. Matthew had managed to hook his foot around James’s ankle, sending them both tumbling to the ground. He had seized a hold of James’s wrists, pinning them down, golden hair stuck to his sweaty face. One look into Matthew’s big green eyes, and James knew he was completely and utterly fucked.  
From that fateful moment on, every second spent with Matthew was both tortuous and wonderful. It was madness simply to be near him.  
James had since resigned himself to pining from afar; and if by afar meant with Matthew’s arm slung over his shoulder, then so be it.

Matthew was infuriatingly tactile. He was always touching James. A hand on his shoulder, or a grounding hug, or an affectionate punch would sideline James for hours. Matthew was just too perfect.

Nor was he anywhere to be seen.

James visibly winced. Shit. He probably thought kissing him was a huge mistake. He was always a rubbish kisser; that’s what Grace had told him before he’d ended things. Matthew had thought kissing him was a fluke.  
Yeah, that made sense. Also, when he’d said ‘I love you’, he’d probably meant it in a platonic way. Like how James said it to Cordelia, or Anna, or Christopher.  
Matthew was probably cross at him now. All because he was a colossal dunce who couldn’t see past his own stupid feelings. Even if they did make him feel like he was dancing on air. He resolved to apologize immediately, though his traitorous heart still fluttered.

James started out of whatever trance he had been in, and hurried out of the library. He checked the training room (Matthew liked to take his frustrations out on the punching bags), the dining room, the garden, and the kitchens. No Matthew. On his way out, he snagged a chocolate muffin from the back counter. Stress always made him hungry. Plus, he needed something to mask the lingering taste of Matthew’s lips on his. He climbed the stairs to continue his search.

Matthew had always been better than James at everything. When they were kids, it sparked jealousy-fueled competitions. As they got older, James found that watching Matthew spar, especially shirtless, was a reward in and of itself. Why fight him (and inevitably lose) when James could just watch his lean form from an ogle-safe distance. He hadn’t been able to answer that question since they were fifteen.

James made it to the end of the hallway. He lightly tapped on Matthew’s door.

“Math? Look, can I talk to you?”

There was no response. James felt a shift against the wall; he heard a sharp intake of breath. He turned the handle, peeking inside. Matthew’s ostentatious jacket was flung across his bed. He sat on the ground, his back against the anterior wall. One of his knees was clasped to his chest. The other was extended gracefully in front of him. It was a very Matthew-like position, all strange angles and slouching shoulders. His gaze was fixed pointedly on his shoe.  
James stepped inside and quickly shut the door, kneeling next to his friend. The stone dug into the fleshy part of his knees. He dutifully ignored it. “Matthew?”

The boy’s gaze flicked up to him, then pointedly back down to stare at his foot. His shoulders hunched. He seemed to crumple in on himself, like a depressed, well dressed paper doll. Red-rimmed eyes traced the curve of his leg.  
James’s lungs constricted at the thought of confessing his feelings. This was a perfect opportunity if there ever was one. Besides, there was no way to know they weren’t reciprocated if he didn’t try. Still, any intake of air felt like a monumental task. He rested a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry for—“

Suddenly, Matthew sprang to life. He smacked James’s hand away, flailing a little as he did so. His eyes snapped up to meet his. “Are you really coming in here to reject me again?” His eyes brimmed with so much irritation that James had to avert his.

James let the words sink in. Rejection? Matthew thought he was being rejected? He gave him an incredulous look. “What? No! I-I came to apologize!” He stammered, his throat restricting the words.

Matthew furrowed his brow. “Why?” His gaze dropped to the floor. He paused for a moment, the tips of his ears flushing red. Voice softening, he continued. “I told you that I loved you.”

James’s breath wavered. He inched closer to Matthew, reaching out to clasp his hand. “I thought you meant it in a friendly sort of way.” His skin tingled where their fingers touched. “And I love you too.”

It was like the sun had come out from behind the clouds. Matthew’s grin spanned the horizon of his face. For a mere second, the sun had found a rival. It didn’t last long. Matthew wrapped a hand around James’s torso, pulling him down so their foreheads were touching. A noise of surprise escaped James before he could help it.

Matthew grinned, his voice low and sultry. By the Angel, it was attractive. “Is this in a friendly sort of way?”

Their lips crashed together unceremoniously, a frenzy of tongues and teeth. James’s head swam with sensation as Matthew tilted his head. Never in a million years did he imagine this happening to him. It was so unlike their first kiss; both boys were marginally prepared, though James wasn’t for the sheer velocity of feelings he experienced as the kiss deepened.

James leaned in further, tangling a hand in Matthew’s golden curls. They were softer than James imagined, and now, without a reason not to, he buried his hand deeper, guiding Matthew’s mouth ever closer to his. Moving his hands away from James’s shoulders, Matthew shucked James’s jacket off, untucking his white shirt and beginning to unbutton it. As his fingers brushed a hint of bare skin on his torso, James’s breath caught.

“ _Mathew_.” James choked out between a heavy inhale and a moan. In response, Matthew wrestled his shirt off of him, skimming a hand along his thigh, and pulling it over him so that James straddled him on the ground. James was confident he was about to combust.  
James undid the buttons on Matthew’s shirt with shaky hands, pausing in between heated kisses to pull it off, leaving the top half of Matthew bare to him. He basked in the soft expanse of his chest, covered in runes and scars. Matthew leaned his head back against the wall, shuddering under his touch. James marveled at his ability to do THAT to his best friend. He felt almost, proud?

Matthew shifted his hips underneath James, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to where his hips touched his. He arched his back against his will, setting his body alight and flush with Matthew’s. Grinding his hips down further, almost animalistically, he made an embarrassing noise, though he couldn’t make himself care.

Matthew dipped his head, kissing a fiery trail along the curve of James’s jawline. As he reached his throat hollow, James was sure he was going to die if Matthew didn’t touch him.  
He whined when Matthew’s lips touched his collarbone, hands already grappling with his belt. He had just gotten the buckle undone when a knock startled both of them.

James flew from Matthew’s lap, careening backwards across the floor. In that exact moment, Anna Lightwood opened the door. Matthew brought his knees up to his chest to hide his...er...problem. James’s mind spun with possibilities. What if she told someone, and then they took Matthew away, or him away? He didn’t know what he would do then. James began to panic.

Whatever Anna was about to say caught in her throat. Her eyes darted between them, hopefully not recognizing the obvious signs of what they were doing. She smiled slyly, in a way that only Anna Lightwood could. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for you two to quit being idiots.”  
She stepped out of the room again, but not before raising an eyebrow at James, as if to say, _‘Really? Come on.’_ The door shut hard behind her. 

There was a deafening moment of silence, only punctuated by heavy breathing, before they both burst out laughing. James couldn’t believe it. After all this time pining, he’d finally gotten to kiss Matthew, only to have it interrupted by her of all people.  
James looked over at Matthew’s dazzlingly wide grin, and couldn’t help but smile even bigger. Now that he knew, it was impossible to keep an even facial expression. Not even when Matthew shifted over to him, drawing his body closer. Only when he pressed his lips to Matthew’s did he stop smiling. One thought kept jumping to the forefront of his mind. 

He really was lucky it wasn’t in a friendly sort of way.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading!
> 
> I’m currently open to suggestions for future fics, so feel free to comment ideas and whatnot. If y’all want smut, I’ll do my best! If you don’t want any, that’s fine too!
> 
> Have a lovely day!
> 
> -flying_crepes


End file.
